


The One With The Bathroom

by Layneee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Panty Kink, Revenge, Taken From A Friends Episode, The Roadhouse Bathroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layneee/pseuds/Layneee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean learned the hard way that there is no greater threat than a woman scorned. </p><p>Good thing Castiel is there to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With The Bathroom

When Lisa Braeden asks you to wear her panties to dinner, you wear her panties to dinner.

It will be worth it in the end. Dean knows this. Even if it is a little uncomfortable at first. And unexpected. Though if he is being honest, the whole "Lisa thing" is a little unexpected. Dean and Lisa had dated in high school and their relationship hadn't ended on the best terms. They'd had plans to go to the junior prom together, but the night before the dance Dean's father had gotten word of a job two states over and thought it was too good a thing to pass up. And just like that, Dean and his little brother Sam were gone. He tried to call Lisa to let her know, but apparently she never got the message. A week later Dean called her to see how the dance was without him, and Lisa had cursed him out and hung up on him mid apology.

When Dean ran it to her at the New Seasons on Main, he saw it as a way to finally make it up to her. Dean asked her to lunch and she accepted. The meal was enjoyable, and they ended up going to go to dinner a few nights later. After dinner they were on Lisa's couch doing a little heavy petting when she whispered the words into his ear.

"You know what would be really sexy?" She'd punctuated the question with a bite to his ear lobe.

"What?" Dean had moaned, because her hand was definitely traveling south.

"If next time we're at dinner, you wear my panties," Lisa had whispered back.

Dean had stopped short. "Uh. Well," he'd coughed to cover his blush.

"If I wear your panties, what will you wear?"

Lisa hadn't answer, but smiled saucily at him. Dean had grinned and agreed.

Not much later Dean left, with blue balls (cause Lisa was a "third date" kind of girl) and a date for the next night.

He takes her to the Roadhouse this time. It is, by far, Dean's favorite spot in town. It's a little grungy and a lot cheap but the people are friendly and the beer's good. Dean opens the door for Lisa, and she smiles at him. Castiel is behind the bar and gives Dean a mock salute before going back to doing whatever it is he was doing. Of the Roadhouse staff, Castiel's the newest and he's a nice guy, even if his way of flirting was to buy Dean a half dozen shots of Jose. Dean had gotten so drunk he couldn't have gotten it up if he wanted to. And he had wanted to. But those are thoughts for another day.

Lisa must have spotted an empty booth, because she makes her way to the back of the room with a confident determination. Dean follows and wills himself not to try and readjust himself in his pants. The panties may hug his junk like a silk blanket, but they cut into his thighs something fierce. If he ever does this again he will  _definitely_ have to get a size up.

Jo, who is practically Dean's little sister, bounces up to their table to get their drink orders. She also gives Dean a wink, which Lisa doesn't seem to notice because she is watching him with a fairly feral look in her eyes.

"How do they feel?" She asks in a husky voice. Dean feels her bare foot rest on his right ankle and move up and down just slightly.

"They're nice," Dean replies. In reward the foot moves up to his knee.

"Would you wear them all the time if I asked?" She whispers.

Dean thinks probable not, but that's not how this kind of coy flirting works. "You'll just have to wait and find out."

Bingo. Her foot travels past his knee and kneads lightly at his growing bulge. Dean can't stop the small moan that flies out of his mouth if he tries. He only thanks whoever is out there that the Roadhouse is loud at this time of the night. Lisa looks to her left, then her right and grins. "Come with me," she says as she grabs his hand and drags him out of the booth.

She pulls him to the men's room, and pushes him into the center stall. Her lips descend on him and Dean welcomes them gladly. Just as he gets her pressed up against the stall door Lisa pulls away. "Now let me see them." She reaches down for his belt and pulls it out of his jeans with a _zzzzzip_. Dean can't help but grin as Lisa slowly pulls his clothes off, piece by piece. In her state she can't help but throw his clothes around with abandon.

When he is finally stripped down to just his socks and the black silk panties she speaks. "Now step back. I want to look at you."

Dean does as she tells him. With a cocky grin he does a little spin, sticking his ass out just enough to where he knows it looks best. After a beat he goes to face her again, but Lisa stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, I want to look at you, just like this for a bit. You're so hot, Dean. I can't believe I ran into you. I've dreamed about this moment since high school."

Behind him, there is the subtle sound of clothes shifting and the squeak of a door.

"Lisa?" Dean asks as he turns. And finds himself alone, nearly naked, in the roadhouse bathroom.

"I mean it, Dean. I've been waiting to get back at you since high school."

Dean looks down with mortification. Lisa has stolen his clothes.

Then the door to the bathroom opens and closes and Dean is truly alone.

"Fuck," Dean swears. It's fucking cold in here without his clothes. How is he going to get himself out of this? He is stuck in a goddamn bathroom wearing silk, ladies panties when everyone he knew is just outside.

Dean doesn't have his phone to check the time, but it feels like at least fifteen minutes before the door opens again. Dean prays that it's someone who just happens to have a spare pair of pants on him.

"Dean?" A rough voice asks quietly. Fuck. Thank the lord for Cas, the Roadhouse angel.

"Cas! Oh thank fuck!" Dean gushes, then realizes that before Cas can help him, Dean has to open the door in his panty-d glory.

"Are you alright, Dean?" His voice sounds concerned, but with a hint of amusement around the edges. "I just saw your date leave with an armful of clothes. Should I be concerned about public indecency?"

Dean clears his throat awkwardly. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare pair of pants, do you?"

Castiel's whiskey and smoke chuckle reaches through the door and, despite Dean's precarious situation, his dick gives a twitch.

"Dean, you are the mayor of the Roadhouse. I bet you could walk out there naked and nobody would care." Dean can't see him, but he can imagine Cas with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips.

"I wish it was that easy, man," Dean swears. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and can feel himself blush. "To be honest, I think she was planning this."

Castiel chuckles, again. "Why'd you think that?"

"I don't want to say! Just get me pants!" Dean crosses his arms to match Castiel's assume stance. 

"I think if I'm going to give you pants I deserve an explanation." Okay. Dean guesses the guy makes sense. 

"Fine, but you can't fucking laugh." When Cas doesn't object, Dean continues. "She, uh, persuaded me to wear her panties. I'm wearing panties, Cas! Women's underwear."

The bartender is quiet. Then he clears his throat. "Really?" His voice is, if possible, lower than before. If Dean's honest with himself, it sounds like his does when he gets turned on. 

Is it bad of him for already getting hard after a moment of humiliation? Cause if it is, then Dean is screwed. "Yeah." And he might make his voice lower too. 

Dean can hear Cas take a deep breath. "What do they look like?"

"They're black, and silky," Dean looks down at said panties and watches them tent under his gaze.

Again, Castiel doesn't speak right away. And when he does, Dean nearly looses it. "Open the door, Dean."

And goddamn it if Dean doesn't do so immediately. 

When the grey door is out of the way, and Dean is face to face with Castiel, time seems to stop. 

The bartender is closer than Dean was expecting, with his hands framing the door. His ocean blue eyes are nearly eclipsed with black and they seems to slide down his body leisurely before they land on his crotch. In a second Castiel is pushing his way into the stall and closing the door behind him. His fingers lift to his shoulders where they trace the muscles with feather light touches. They move down his chest, tweak his nipples, scratch at his ribs and pinch the little collection of fat around his waist. When they finally reach the waistline of his panties, Dean is already hard. He has a fleeting thought that he's lucky the material is black or Cas would be able to see where he is leaking precome.

Then his hands bypass his cock to reach around and grab the globes of his ass. He squeezes, and Dean bucks forward. Castiel chuckles and presses his leg against Dean's crotch. As Castiel continues to massage his backside, Dean unabashedly grinds against the bartenders thigh. Before he can get off Castiel steps away. Dean wants to complain, but Cas pulls him into a kiss that is wet and sloppy and perfect. Then he drops to his knees. 

For how much he has seemed to enjoy the tease, he is quick to pull down the panties and take Dean in his mouth. Dean moans, loud and low. He can feel Cas hum in enjoyment and it sends another spike of pleasure down his spine. 

"Oh mother of God, don't stop," Dean groans. Castiel continues to bob up and down until the head of Dean's cock is slipping down the other man's throat. When slim fingers travels back up his chest and rub at his lips, Dean doesn't think twice about taking them in his mouth. He sucks on the digits greedily, and feels Cas moan around his cock. 

When the wet fingers slip out of his mouth he subtly widens his stance. He knows where they're headed, and is more than ready for them. 

The first touch to his hole is a shock, as it always is, but Castiel handles it with expertise. He just presses at first. Rubbing and getting Dean nice and wet. When it feels like Dean may die from the feeling of _almost,_  Castiel pushes in. Dean cries out and bucks forward. Like a fucking Russian gymnast, Castiel goes right for the goal. His long fingers know just how far to go to nail Dean's prostate. And they do so relentlessly. 

Too soon Dean is a blubbering mess. He has a mouth on his cock and what feels like two fingers in his ass. He is sweating and swearing, and doesn't want it to stop. 

He can't believe that his scheming, jilted ex girlfriend trying to humiliate him led to what has got to be the blow job to end all blow jobs. 

He can think of ways to thank Lisa later, right now he just wants to submit the man in front of him. In every way. "Cas! Fuck, I want you in me." 

Castiel pauses in his ministrations. He pulls back from Dean's crotch but doesn't still his fingers as he asks, "really?" 

"Yeah, really," Dean answers. He looks down to see Cas grin before he feels a hand on his hip that spins him around. The fingers are still moving inside of him, only this time they move to stretch instead of just stimulate. Dean welcomes the burn the follows them, but has no complains when they are joined by the other man's tongue. Dean groans into the tile wall and pushes his ass back. 

Castiel chuckles as he pulls his face away. "So needy," he chastises jokingly. Dean can hear the rustle of fabric, then the click of a bottle. Cold lube is dripped over his already stretched hole and the cold is a shock to his system. A third finger joins the first two and Dean can feel his body open up for the bartender. When his tongue joins the party again, Dean nearly cries.

"Come on! Fuck me, I'm dying over here." Dean is tempted to reach down and tug at his own dick, but refrains, he knows it will be better if he doesn't. 

"Needy," Cas mumbles. 

Then there is the sounds of a package ripping, a small relieved moan, and Cas is suddenly _in_. The extra stretching let's the other man just thrust balls deep in one smooth motion, and Dean nearly comes right then. 

Cas always seemed small in stature. He was tall, but shorter than Dean. Strong, but lithe instead of bulky. So subconsciously Dean was expecting his cock to match. Immediately he knows he was wrong. Castiel's cock feels thicker than anyone else he's ever been with. It's long and reaches places in Dean he didn't even know were sensitive. 

Castiel thrusts shallowly, experimentally, and Dean pushes back to meet him. 

"Don't worry. Your tyrannosaurus cock won't break me," Dean snarks. 

Suddenly there are teeth scratching at his pulse point and a rough voice whispering into his ear. "You asked for it." 

Castiel pulls out almost fully, then slams back in. 

The pleasure is so intense Dean nearly sobs. His left hand is balled into a fist against the wall, grounding him, but his right reaches around to grab Cas's ass and pull him closer, harder. It's a miracle someone hasn't heard them. Dean has long since lost the ability to keep quiet, and Cas doesn't seem to be holding back either. 

Cas reaches down with his left hand and bodily folds Dean's left leg up, pressing his knee to the wall. Dean had no idea his body even did that, but boy is he glad it does. The new angle allows the perfect, huge cock inside of him to nail his prostate with every thrust. 

His moans, which were already breaking-the-sound-barrier loud, reach a new high. He would almost feel embarrassed, if Cas wasn't keening at the noises behind him. 

Dean can feel his orgasm coming, and would let Cas know if he had the ability to speak. Unfortunately Cas fucked that out of him, and all he can to is squeeze the handful of Cas's ass so hard that he fears his nails will break the skin. With a final cry, Dean come so hard some drops shoot up to his chin. The rest just paints the bathroom wall as he clenches around Cas.

"Fuck, Dean," Castiel moans as his thrusts go erratic. And then he is coming too, pressing himself balls deep inside Dean. Dean stokes the man's ass through the aftershocks, loving the little kisses that Cas peppers against his shoulders. 

Castiel pulls out slowly, like he doesn't want it to end either and drops the spoiled condom into the toilet. 

"You're not supposed to flush rubber," Dean comments as he sags forward against the wall. 

The other man seems fit to ignore him. Instead he spins Dean around and presses kisses to his neck, collar bones, jaw. He licks the come off Dean's chin and Dean goes cross eyed to watch it. 

"After I get you some pants will you let me take you out on a date?" Castiel asks as he runs the fingers that weren't in Deans ass through his short blonde hair. 

Dean can't help but laugh. "Duh, Cas. I thought you'd never ask."

Castiel's smile goes supernova and he points down at the panties at Deans feet. 

"And you are definitely wearing those."

And what can Dean say? 

When Castiel tells you to wear panties to dinner, you wear panties to dinner.


End file.
